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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23650708">where the shadows know your name</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVeiledWitch/pseuds/TheVeiledWitch'>TheVeiledWitch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alcohol, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, I Go Where the Sprit Takes Me and So Do the Tags</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 08:55:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,671</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23650708</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheVeiledWitch/pseuds/TheVeiledWitch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Solo grew up on tales of the mighty Andromeda Saberstaff, a weapon so powerful its crystals could destroy armies and annihilate worlds. Now, it haunts Commander Kylo Ren’s dreams. Desperate to find the staff and make it his own, he discovers it on Takodana, unknowingly held in the hands of a young farm woman who was raised to believe that the tales of the Force were nothing but myth and legend.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>where the shadows know your name</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone, and welcome to my very first Reader Insert fic. I am extremely excited to be working on this as a quarantine project. So far, I know Point A and Point Z, but how I get there is almost as much a mystery to me as it is to you. In any case, I hope you enjoy the beginning of this new story as much as I enjoyed writing it &lt;3 </p><p>This first chapter has a very brief mention of attempted rape, and if you would like to skip it, it is in the paragraph that begins "Your attention was brought back to the stormtrooper with a jerk" and ends at "Even his partner seemed to stop in her tracks..."</p><p> </p><p>TheVeiledWitch</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Three months. It had been three months since each of the blurrgs had fallen ill and died, three months since the hens had last laid their eggs, three months since you’d been able to get away from home and almost breathe again in the dusty outer markets of Andui.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When your mother had woken you at dawn, she’d been serpent-tongued and impatient. An unnatural eagerness had underlined her movements as she thrust an apple into your hand and slung the black staff over your shoulder, her eyes always returning to the skies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She drew you up sharp, smoothing the lightweight cloak on your shoulders, and setting two baskets on your waiting arms. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now you listen to me. You sell every last one of those eggs. I do not care how long it takes.” She paused, and it looked as though a miniature thunderstorm passed over her features. “Stay with Jethro if it is too dark to come home.” Her eyes were shiny, rimmed with desperation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You readjusted yourself with a shrug, mindful of the eggs. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Desperation over eggs? This is truly what we’ve been reduced to?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shouldn't Papa be coming home today?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her eyes snapped back to you quickly, but instead of the harsh edge you expected, they were soft. Weary. “Yes. Yes I think so.” Again, a look over your shoulder towards the morning sun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You nodded, eager to leave. The forests of Takodana called to you, and the footpaths missed your journeys. It had been too long since you’d been able to leave home without a gnawing sensation of guilt in your gut, as though the forests took you away from your responsibilities to what little of the farm was left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be alright, Mom. It’s been a while, but I haven’t forgotten how to sell eggs,” you quipped, but the effort fell flat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take a small portion of the money for yourself, but sell every last egg first.” She seemed to sniff, then turned you towards the path. “Now get going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Giving her a small, appreciative smile, you nodded and hoisted the staff higher on your shoulder, and the baskets further into your elbows. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mindful of the mouseholes in the fields, you stepped across the clearing and disappeared in the shadows of the trees, the weight of your mother’s stare heavy on your back as the sun rose infinitesimally higher in the sky.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>The journey from the farm to the market took just over two hours on a good day, but the excitement of experiencing the buzz of the market again and seeing old friends fueled your movements over the fallen trees and bubbling streams, and the journey took half an hour less than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hum of people and creatures reached your ears before you saw it, and then the scent of food and alcohol welcomed you back. Finally, the last of the tall trees and dirt footpaths gave way to the market.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wooden stalls stood erect against the mid-morning sun, fluttering flags of every color casting rainbow shadows on the ground. Smoke filled the air from countless fires, and beings of all kinds milled about the place, selling their wares and spending their coin. Somewhere, instruments were being played to a quick tempo, and already visitors were dancing in lines and circles. Far beyond the market stood the city itself, and all the homes and shops looked like a children’s toy castle. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You glanced around, looking for the old Volpai who sold meats and allowed you to sell your eggs at her stall, so long as she got four for free. It was an arrangement made by your father long ago until he felt better suited to hunting as a way to provide for his family, an arrangement now continued by you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You heard your name called by a familiar voice and turned, spotting her just up the path.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Slither!” You waved and made your way to her quickly, dodging a runaway cart that was being chased by a pair of Artiodacs. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good morning, honey. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Have you stopped by Jethro’s yet to say hello?” She stood behind her stall, beginning her second roast of the morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head, and set your baskets at the edge of her counter next to her small cooking spit. You failed miserably to keep your mouth from watering at the aroma of the cooked meat, filled with the bloom of the best spices to come through Andui. “I’m sorry, the hens were being temperamental, but they finally seem to have gotten over it. And no, not yet, but I’m planning on seeing him this evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckled softly, noting the way you avoided making eye contact with the roast. Quickly, she grabbed a fresh piece from her pile for sale and held it out to you. “For you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You started to decline it, but the growl of your stomach spoke for you. Instead, you smiled sheepishly and took it from her hand, reaching to the baskets for her eggs. “And for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slither took an egg in each hand and inspected them. “Seems to me those fine hens were just cooking up a few perfect baskets these few months!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She tucked them away with a flourish just as a fresh wave of customers arrived, and you readied yourself to make your sales.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>It had taken hours to sell all of the eggs. Your time away had garnered both suspicion and empathy, which launched a metaphorical tug of war between the few who wanted to help and the many who feared your wares had somehow been tampered with. In the sweltering sun, it was a struggle to keep your temper under control, but you bit back all ill wishes and dealt with the slow sales. Even Slither had sold all of her meats before your eggs were gone, but finally, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally</span>
  </em>
  <span>, they had been dealt to the masses. You stashed the money away safely after taking out a small portion for yourself, and made your way to say hello to Jethro.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tavern sat at the farthest edges of the market where the crumbling dirt road of the city limits began to give way to the forest. To some, it was little more than a shack, a collapsing pile of wood, tarp, and rope. But to you, it was an oasis, and a home away from home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Stepping inside the doorway, you soaked in the feeling of the shade even as you coughed, choking slightly on the thickened air that was heavy with dust and alcohol. You recognized several of the patrons, but their names escaped you, as yours did them, and you simply returned their nods in greeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the sight of you, the elderly owner waved a hand and beckoned you over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Darling! You haven’t been around in a while. How’s your family? Is everything alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned to grab you a drink as you pulled yourself onto the nearest barstool, laying your staff across the cracked wooden countertop and your empty baskets on the floor. “Hi, Jethro. I’m sorry I haven’t been in lately, but yes, my family is alright. The hens were having an episode, it seems. Less eggs to sell in the market.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jethro nodded knowingly and set your drink down in front of you. “Well it’s good to see you. You hadn’t checked in for so long, I was getting worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You pouted good naturedly, a child seeking forgiveness even as a warmth bloomed in your chest and cheeks. Jethro was the closest you’d come to anything resembling family outside of your mother and father, and perhaps he was even more family than they were. It was painful to disappoint or worry him even though you knew his good nature covered it entirely. “I’m sorry. I’ll be sure to check in more often in the future, but hopefully the hens stay useful now.” Wrapping your hand around the weeping glass, you went to take a drink, but in that moment, the chatter and clamor of the tavern came to a halt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The skin on the back of your neck prickled and your heart began to race, and slowly you moved your hand to where your staff lay on the table. You grabbed it, readying yourself for whatever, whoever, had walked through the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning to look over your shoulder, you saw two stormtroopers standing in the doorway. Their white uniforms were bright, too bright in the darkening sunset and the candlelit tavern. Slowly, they holsterd the blasters they had been holding in their hands and walked to the bar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You turned back to Jethro, who was busying himself with wiping a spot on the counter. To anybody else, he looked harmless. To you, he looked shaken, but prepared. Steeled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Soldiers, what can I do for you?” he asked when they’d approached. The troopers glanced at once another and removed their helmets, setting them down on the bar with a clang. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What can you do for us? Well you can get us a drink, to start.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This one was an ugly brute, face more akin to a dog than a man, flesh covered in deep pits and jaw sporting an underbite. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he foamed and slobbered when he was mad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Keeping the thought off your face proved to be difficult, so you leaned further over your staff, fixing your grip, and took a sip of your drink in your other hand, staring blindly ahead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right away, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jethro hobbled over to the stack of mismatched glasses and began to make the drinks. Then, the second one scoffed. She was raven haired, and had birdlike features - all sharp angles and beady eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who is letting this man run a tavern? He probably pisses in the alcohol. I mean, come on, look at this place.” She gestured around the establishment, and then looked at you. “He can’t possibly afford anything decent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A current rippled through the tavern, an anger in the hushed breaths of the customers. But again, you did nothing, rooted to the spot in fear for what would happen if you lashed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jethro began to make his way back to the bar, and something in your stomach twisted, as though a warning desperate to be heard. Just then, he stumbled and the drinks skidded across the bar, dousing the troopers’ helmets and dumping the rest of their contents into their laps. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The glasses crashed to the hardened dirt floor and shattered on impact as the brute grabbed Jethro but his shirt, near dragging him across the bar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you, Hutt-spawn?” he yelled. Your earliest assessment was then proven correct as spit flew from his mouth, landing on both Jethro and yourself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In an instant, and against your better judgement, your staff was in your hands, and every muscle was poised for attack, the barstool’s teetering the only sound filling the space. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the kriff do we have here?” The other trooper practically sauntered over to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stay back!” you shouted, and pointed the staff towards her throat. “Please, just go, both of you. You aren’t even supposed to be in here. Please leave.” The shake in your voice scared you, threatened to take you over and make you crumble to the ground. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But instead, you breathed, deep and strong, anchoring yourself to the floor and your weapon. Anchoring yourself to Jethro. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let him go. I am begging you to just let him go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other trooper snarled, and a grin like rotting flesh stretched across his face. “Did you hear the pretty girl? She’s begging.” With a shove, he threw Jethro to the floor behind the counter. From the corner of your eye, you saw a customer jump up from his seat and dart behind the bar to check on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your attention was brought back to the stormtrooper with a jerk. “How about I give you something to beg for, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your eyes widened in horror as he began to fiddle with his breastplate in an attempt to take off his armor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even his partner seemed to stop in her tracks, but instead of waiting to hear her defend you, you attacked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With all the strength you could manage, you drew your staff back over your head, black metal glinting in the candlelight, and cracked it forward and towards his skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would have been a deathblow, you knew, but suddenly his partner’s blaster caught your staff as she parried. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All around you, patrons began to yell and run, but you forced the commotion out of your mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If they’re gone, they’re safe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>You stepped back, panting, and raised your staff again, this time at her. Dust filled the air again as you began to circle. She raised her blaster, and you whipped the staff out and over, trying to knock it out of her hands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except suddenly, time seemed to stop. You felt sluggish, and slow, and impossibly fast. Gooseflesh broke out on your arms, and the early evening heat froze in your chest. Then, an impossible pressure exploded in your skull. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You dropped your staff as your knees crashed into the dirt, and you clutched your head in your hands. With barely open eyes, you saw the stormtroopers do the same. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With a yank, an unseen force threw you against the nearby barstools as the troopers were thrown to the other side of the tavern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three obsidian shadows stood in the doorway, blocking the last of the falling sunlight, and something in your head screamed as the first one turned its helmeted eyes towards you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then, the pressure lifted and the shadow turned away, stalking towards the stormtroopers. With a gasp, you crawled behind the counter. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>An arm shot out and dragged you further into the darkened corner. Jethro’s face was pale, but he patted your arm reassuringly. Next to him, the customer was shaking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey! I’m okay, but you need to leave. You have to run.” Jethro’s voice was raspy, and his words fast. “You have to run.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You breathed and tried to focus, but the adrenaline was starting to wane despite the shadow’s hostile attack. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He shook you. “As soon as it’s clear, you have to go. Promise me, you’ll run. Run to the forest, it will hide you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On the other side of the bar, the two stormtroopers screamed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head, confused. When you tried to peer over the counter, he pulled you back down. “It’s the Commander, the right hand of the Supreme Leader. I feared he would come here sooner or later, but-” he faltered as fear overcame his face - “but I thought we had more time to prepare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was too much and didn’t make enough sense.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘prepare?’” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jethro coughed again. “There’s no time to explain, you have to go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You shook your head violently and grasped his shoulders. “No! I am not leaving without you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He almost smiled, and sadness blurred his eyes. “Yes, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With his hands on your arms, he shoved you and you fell out from behind the bar, your staff falling into your lap. The noise caused all eyes to focus on you, and the first shadow turned from where it towered over the stormtroopers. Then the screaming in your head began again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a step towards you with its hand outstretched, then paused, the unseen eyes tracking the movement of the staff, and the world went silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that moment, when all eyes were on you but a path to the door was clear, you took advantage of the shadow’s hesitation and did the only thing you could remember to do - </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You scrambled to your feet, and you ran.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Behind you, the shadow snarled, and you expected the screams to return or time to stop as your legs carried you out of the tavern and into the darkening forest. Instead, a deep voice rang out, a voice made of chromium and shattered glass - “Bring me that staff!”</span>
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